Chapter 32

Sunday, January 20, 2002

Randy knew jack shit about sailing and he made no secret about it. Back when he was in high school, a friend of his father brought a Lightning up to Spearfish Lake and Randy got to ride on it a couple times. That was the extent of his sailboat knowledge, so he figured the most use he could be was to stay the hell out of the way of those people who knew what they were doing. Dave and Mary were about level with his knowledge, but Michelle had done this before. On top of that, Jim knew his way around a sailboat, but Scooter was far away the expert and the acknowledged captain. She'd spent her summers in junior high and high school crewing on her uncle's skipjack, an oyster boat in Chesapeake Bay, so the Felicity Ann was small potatoes to her.

They were up and around fairly early, grabbed some breakfast and took a taxi to the dock in Marsh Harbour where they were chartering the boat. Since Scooter had been through the routine of doing the charter before and the people at the charter agency knew her, it went quickly, and they started loading their gear.

The Felicity Ann was a lot bigger than the Lightning that Randy remembered, but it really wasn't all that big of a boat. It had been fine for Scooter, Michelle, and Crystal the year before, but with six aboard it was going to be a little snugger. After some kicking it around, it was decided that Randy would get the quarter berth right by the hatch out into the cockpit and opposite the tiny kitchen; it would be snug, with his legs extending out under the cockpit seat a ways when he was sleeping. There was room enough for his gear in a locker under his bunk; his guitar and Michelle's fit nicely into a hanging locker near his head. There was just enough room for everything, but with none to spare.

With his stuff stowed away, he came back on deck, the excitement rising in him. He'd envied the girls this trip the last two years, and had been offered the chance to join them the previous year, but had turned it down since he didn't think it was right to be spending weeks on a tiny boat with three single girls. Whether anything happened or not, it wouldn't look right to Nicole, even though she'd urged him to do it. Now he was really getting to do it. It had been a long time since he'd had a new adventure, and this was going to be it.

"All right, people," he heard Scooter say. "Let's get this show on the road. We didn't come down here to spend all day tied to the pier."

"Ready when you are, Skip," Michelle replied. "There's a bar out there somewhere with our name on it."

Scooter reached into her pocket – she was wearing shorts and what appeared to be one of Jim's shirts – and pulled out a cigar and lighter. On the Colorado, her traditional way of greeting customers as they got off the bus from Las Vegas was to do it with a cigar in her mouth. It not only set the tone for the trip, it sent a non-verbal message to the customers about what kind of a trip leader she was: a woman who smoked cigars was a tough customer and out of the ordinary. Apparently the tradition held true here.

"What do you want me to do besides stay the hell out of the way?" Randy asked as she lit the cigar.

She let out a puff of smoke and watched it roll out over the water away from the dock. She took a look around the area eyeing the slight breeze blowing ripples onto the water, then said, "Shouldn't be any reason we can't sail right out of here. I haven't farted around with a kicker down here yet and there's no reason to today. Michelle, take the jib; get set to raise it when I tell you; I think we're going to need it to kick the bow around, then stand by the main. Jim, take the sheets; we may have to get a little cute. Dave, Randy, why don't the two of you get up on the pier? When I tell you, cast off the lines, toss them on board and hop on yourselves. When we get away from the pier a little you can haul in the fenders. Let's be about it, people."

As he got up on the pier and headed for the bow line, Randy glanced at the people from the charter agency who were standing on the pier watching with interest. From their amusement, he guessed that people usually didn't sail away from the dock. "Ready when you are, Scoot," he said.

"OK, bring in the lines, let's get going." Scooter called. "Michelle, hoist the jib. Jim, sheet it in tight."

It took a moment to get the bow line untied. Randy tossed it onto the foredeck, then took a few steps back to where the boat was resting against the dock and hopped aboard. It was a couple more steps to get to the cockpit. "Where do you want me to be to stay the hell out of the way?" he asked Scooter.

"Oh, back there in the ass end somewhere," she said, keeping an eye on the jib as it filled. "Don't worry, we'll have you doing some of the fun stuff sooner or later."

Randy found a seat right in the stern of the boat and watched what was happening. What breeze there was came off the pier at a slight cross angle. As it filled the jib, it began to push the boat away from the pier, and tried to swing the boat around. Given the big keel on the Felicity Ann, it turned slowly, even with the helm far over. When they were a boat length or so away from the pier Scooter said, "OK, Michelle, might as well get the main up so we can get out of here. Jim, we're far enough around now, you can sheet out the jib a bit to get us moving. You'll have to play with the main sheet a bit."

"Got you, Scoot," he replied.

In a minute or so, the main was up and the sail was filling. The Felicity Ann was moving at the speed of a slow walk, heading away from the pier, with their inflatable Zodiac raft following along behind on a tow line. They were still close enough that they could hear the call from the charter agent: "Well done, Felicity Ann."

"Thanks!" Scooter called back. "We'll see you in a couple weeks." In a somewhat lower voice, she said to her crew. "Shit, that wasn't no big trick. They probably get bozos down here all the time who don't know anything about sailing and think they know it all. My uncle would have thought that was a bit sloppy, but it got the job done."

"You made it look pretty simple," Mary commented.

"It is pretty simple if you know how to do it," Scooter said. "Just like running a rapids; you have to know what you're doing."

The breeze stayed light as they crossed the harbor, heading for the mouth, but as they got out on the open ocean it picked up a bit. Soon the Felicity Ann was bounding happily along over light waves and a rolling swell. "Now this," Scooter said, "Is more like it. Anyone up for a beer?"

Randy decided he could handle one. He really wasn't up for heavy drinking this morning but this was a vacation after all, and a beer would taste good. He started for the icebox in the galley, but Mary beat him to it and started handing up beers; he passed them out all around, and lay back to take in the day.

He could get used to this, he thought as he felt the wind and the sun on his face. It was warm, the sky was blue. Spearfish Lake, Clark Construction, and winter, especially winter, seemed far away. It would have been nice to have Nicole here; he missed her already, but still it was nice to be aboard. He had two weeks before he had to get back to the grind, but the new gym at Blair and the ski lodge at Three Cherries were far in the back of his mind, and they could damn well stay there for all he was concerned.

"Hey, Randy, Michelle," he heard Scooter say. "You two might want to be thinking about some sunscreen. The rest of us have been in the Mexican sun enough that it shouldn't matter, but you don't want to fuck up your trip with a bad sunburn."

"Yeah, good thought," he heard Michelle say. "You don't get a good suntan at ten below under a parky and four layers of underwear."

"No shit," Randy agreed. "In fact, I might as well get some clothes off and get serious about picking up some sun." He'd been wearing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt since the morning had been a bit cool, but it was warming up now, even out in the nice breeze. He usually didn't burn much, but he was going to be out in the sun a lot, so it probably was a good idea to be working on it. He got up and headed down to the main cabin, and peeled down to a swimsuit, but decided to keep a T-shirt on for now. He brought the tube of sunscreen back up on deck with him and started spreading it.

He was partly through the process when he heard Scooter say loudly, "Holy shit! I think hell just froze over!"

"What?" he heard Jim say.

"The world is about to come to an end," Scooter said in amazement. "I never thought I'd see the day when I saw Michelle in a one-piece swimsuit."

That was enough to cause him to raise his head and look at the hatchway, where Michelle stood posing with a huge smirk on her face. Yes, it was a one-piece swimsuit much like the ones that Nicole and Myleigh had worn to tease Crystal and Preach, except that this was made of even thinner material than the T-shirt material those had. It wasn't quite transparent, but nearly so, and you could see everything without trying. "You like it?" Michelle grinned, turning around to show her almost-bare backside; the strings that held it on weren't fishing line, but close to it. "Randy's wife made it for me."